


Heat

by chronicDevil (chronicAngel)



Series: Leaves in the Summer [48]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Desk Sex, F/M, Floor Sex, POV Third Person, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-27 04:56:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17760182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicAngel/pseuds/chronicDevil
Summary: They have only been sleeping together for a few weeks and she already needs him the way a bitch in heat needs to be fucked.





	Heat

She does not usually wear dresses.

They are not very practical for a shinobi, and while she usually stays in the village to run the veterinary clinic, if someone attacks the village it is her duty as much as anyone else's to defend it with her life even if it is on short notice. She favors leggings and high-collared shirts, or else the regulation flak vests that most Konoha jōnin wear.

That being said, it is the dead of August and despite the fact that the weather has been cooling the last couple weeks, they have been struck with another sudden heat wave and she is _hot_. She has grown tired of going back to her apartment at the end of the day and peeling her leggings off from where they've been glued to her thighs with sweat.

So, she's wearing a sundress as she makes her way to the Hokage's office, ignoring the wolf whistles that follow her through the busy streets of Konoha. Most Inuzuka women would either get in a fight or respond in kind, but Hana is neither particularly aggressive nor available. No one is grabbing at her or making particularly insufferable comments, so she has no reason to pay them any mind. Instead, she simply stares at the bentō box in her hands with a small, pleased smile to herself. (Plus, the hickeys coating one side of her neck that are proudly on display with the low neckline of her dress are a firm reminder to anyone who gets too close that she is taken.)

She waves at Shikamaru on her way into the office and doesn't knock.

Kakashi is slumped over a thick stack of papers on his desk, writing something mindlessly with no light in his eyes. He doesn't look at all like she is used to seeing him, with a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes and his hands tucked into the pockets of his robes, looking completely at peace. Instead he is practically glaring down at the paper he is writing on with how hard he is squinting and if she looks closely enough, she thinks that he is worrying his lip underneath his mask. "Knock knock," she says softly, hands occupied with the bentō box but positive she needs to make some sort of sound to get his attention.

His eyes snap up in alarm and he jerks his arm toward a drawer in his desk as though he is reaching for some hidden compartment of kunai or shuriken (she likes to think she knows him fairly well and is actually almost positive that is what it is) before he seems to process who she is and slumps in his seat slightly. "Hana." He breathes her name as though seeing her is some great relief, and she takes this as a sign that she can step further into the office. She steps around the desk, puts the lunchbox down next to the stack of papers, hooks her fingers in his mask, and leans down to kiss him.

She had meant it as a small comfort, a quick peck on the lips before she headed out again, but the moment she moves to pull away he puts his hands on her hips and drags her down into his lap. She yelps in surprise and pulls back even as he grumbles softly in complaint. "What are you doing?" She asks, quirking a brow.

"I missed you," he responds delicately, raising a brow right back as though daring her to challenge the statement. She thinks it is much more likely that he is simply searching for a distraction from his paperwork. She still doesn't protest as he leans in and kisses her again, sliding one of his hands to cup the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair.

She runs her tongue along his lower lip first, the taste of sweat hitting her tongue before he opens his mouth to press his tongue back against hers. She groans softly as he slides his hands from her hips to squeeze her ass and the momentary lapse in concentration that follows allows him to take control of the kiss once more, pressing his tongue into her mouth.

Shikamaru, thankfully, has the courtesy to knock, likely because he's noticed that she hasn't left the room by now. They don't have enough time for her to get out of his lap (not that Kakashi's firm grip on her butt has loosened at all), but they do manage to pull apart and she, at the very least, wipes at her wet mouth, though her lack of any real sleeves means that she just smears saliva across her arm instead. He opens the door and looks, frankly, unsurprised at the scene before him. "Don't forget that you have a meeting with Naruto in two hours. And you're expecting a hawk from Sasuke at any minute. And you told me to remind you that Hana's--" His eyes settle on her. "Well, I guess you know."

She feels her cheeks heat up. This kid was in school with her little brother and is now watching her sit in the Hokage's lap without even blinking like this is the sort of thing he expects to see every day. Only she knows that can't be true, because she's the first real girlfriend Kakashi's had since... actually, she thinks she might be the first _real_ girlfriend he's ever had. "Shikamaru," Kakashi starts, turning his head to look at the Nara without even bothering to pull his mask back over his face, and she wonders how many people have seen him without his mask on. _His precious students certainly haven't_ , she thinks, amused. She remembers Naruto bursting into her apartment a few days ago when they were cooking dinner together, acting like he'd been _hoping_ to walk in on them so he might catch a glimpse of his former sensei's face.

"Sir?"

"Take a long lunch. Go on a walk with Temari or something. She's supposed to be leaving the village tomorrow afternoon, right?"

Shikamaru looks taken aback that Kakashi knows that at all. "Yeah, she is. She wants to see her brothers one more time before she has the baby and can't travel for a while. I think that she's too pregnant to be traveling as it stands and that her brothers should just come here, but you know her. Fussing over Gaara traveling too far because he's the Kazekage and it's a 'huge risk'." He rubs at the back of his neck and seems to catch that he's rambling. He salutes mockingly and turns on his heels to leave the room.

The minute the door has closed behind him, Kakashi pulls her in again, and she hums in satisfaction as his lips crash into hers. She hadn't come here with the intention to fuck him-- and certainly not in his office, only two stories above the Academy-- but she is certainly not about to complain when presented with the opportunity. Not when she can feel the vaguest outline of his erection through his robes. She squirms to a more comfortable position in the hopes of feeling it more clearly.

He hisses through his teeth as she squirms, rubbing up against him, and then stands, his hands under her thighs to hold her against him while she wraps her legs around his waist. He sits her on his desk, shoving the paperwork he had previously been doing off of it and sending the papers fluttering to the floor, the bentō box teetering at the edge. If he cares, he doesn't show it, burying his face in her neck and biting down before she can say anything. She lets out a loud cry, digging her fingers into the wood of his desk.

He shoves her skirt up, bunching it up around her waist, and presses firmly against her through the fabrics of his robes and her underwear. She still drops her head back and lets out a sharp gasp, because it's not enough, _it's not enough, it's not enough, fuck_. "Kakashi-sama," she whines, the honorific only managing to slip out because they are _in his office_ and he is _wearing the fucking robes_.

He groans in response and pulls back, sliding one hand under her chin and dragging her face back down to look him in the eyes.

"You don't have to call me that," he says, breath hitting her lips. It sends a shiver up her spine and she presses forward to kiss him rather than saying anything else. She doesn't have any witty response or retort for him, and so she will simply cut him off from teasing her for it, dragging her tongue across his lower lip and fighting with him for dominance in the kiss.

They continue to simply kiss for a long time, a passionate battle of tongues and small brushes against each other but a distinct lack of vehemence. Finally, she is the one to grow impatient, running her fingers down along his chest and untying the obi around his waist.

The cloak and the robes slide to the floor easily, pushed back off his shoulders by impatient fingers, and she sighs in contentment as she rests her hands against his abdomen. She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of the hakama he wears underneath all the rest of it (and really, she has no idea how he's not dying of heat stroke in all these layers with the way the weather is right now) to pull him against her, her chest bumping up against his. "I love you," she sighs.

"I love you too," he answers with no hesitation, though he does sound mildly confused-- concerned, perhaps. Like he's not sure why she's saying it. _As though I need a reason_ , she scoffs to herself internally, and then leans up to kiss him again, slow and sweet and not at all like the heated kisses they've been sharing since she first stepped into his office. She brings both of her hands up to cradle his face, scooting forward to the edge of his desk so she can press as close to him as possible.

(And if it happens to press his erection more firmly against her, that's not hurting anybody.)

Slowly, she peels away his hakama and the surprisingly modern underwear underneath (nothing like the traditional layers he's piled on top of them), as well as her own panties, though her dress remains bunched up at her waist. They are touching each other with no layers between them now, hot, wet skin to hot, wet skin. He is not pressing any further, though, and she aches for the way he fills her. They have only been sleeping together for a few weeks and she already needs him the way a bitch in heat needs to be fucked.

She reaches down and takes him in hand, running her thumb over the tip of his cock and watching his face for the way he shudders and bites his lip. He is not vocal, likely never will be, but he is still _expressive_. He shows her what he likes in the ways that he shudders and shivers and dips his head forward and bucks his hips into her hands when she is pumping his dick with delicate fingers. She does it now, rubbing his cock with only her sweat to wet her hand and watching the way he squeezes his eyes shut and sucks his lower lip between his teeth. She leans forward to take it between her own, sucking on his lip.

She slowly picks up the pace of her pumps until she is basically just giving him a hand job, squeezing just slightly with every upstroke and loosening her grip when she pulls down once more, pulling away after little pecks every few seconds to watch the small ways his expression shifts.

"Hana, stop," he wheezes after a few long moments, and she does immediately, pulling her hand back as though he has suddenly become toxic and slamming it against the cool wooden surface of his desk. He presses his head forward, resting his forehead against her shoulder and taking a minute to simply catch his breath. She simply waits, her hands remaining flat on the desk. She is afraid to touch him, afraid that she will hurt him or push him further than he wants to go even though really, he was the one that started this whole mess. "You're so wonderful," he says, slowly, and she hears a _but_ coming.

It never arrives. He simply lets the compliment linger in the air, floating in the air between them as though waiting for one of them to suck it back in and absorb it into their bloodstream. Unfortunately, her heart melts and it seems her bloodstream will be permanently disrupted by its tragic loss. Finally, she lets out an awkward laugh, unsure how else to respond. "I'm already going to leave stains on your desk. You don't have to try so hard to get into my pants," she teases, and he chuckles and lifts his face again to make eye contact with her, his breaths still coming in as little huffs. Her gaze softens as she looks at his flushed cheeks. "You're wonderful, too."

He surges forward, capturing her lips, and finally, _finally_ thrusts inside of her, swallowing the squeak she releases as he simply slips into her, his whole cock buried before she has time to process it. She is overly sensitive after so much teasing and finds herself gripping the edge of the desk with white knuckles to relieve some of the pressure in her guts. It doesn't really help much, but she cannot pry her fingers away from it. _Probably better that I grab the desk than scream and cry out when there are children trying to learn about ninjutsu right downstairs_ , she thinks privately. She still cannot stop the little gasps and groans that claw their way out of her throat when he begins thrusting, although she is certain this isn't helped by him pulling away from their kiss to bury his face in her neck again.

She can feel him leaving a dark mark on her skin but finds that it's hard to process the feeling completely with his cock in her. Her nails are biting into the surface of the desk now and she is breathing heavy, stuttering gasps and pants as she tries and fails to catch her breath with every inhale. "K-Kakashi," she cries, voice high, and he hums without pulling away from her neck. " _Fuck_. I love you. I love you," she breathes, unable to articulate the deeper, sappier, more meaningful comments stirring in the back of her mind.

He releases her neck with a pop and she feels as though the bruised patch he has left behind is throbbing. She actually pries one of her hands away from the desk (and her fingers are _sore_ ) to hold it up to the spot on her neck and she isn't sure whether to wince or moan at how painful it is to press her fingers into it. Either way, her mouth falls open, and Kakashi takes the opportunity to draw a loud groan out of her with a particularly harsh thrust.

He doesn't say _I love you too_ aloud. Instead he says it in the way he speeds his movements up to the fast, hard pace she secretly craves every time they do this. He says it with the way he presses his forehead forward to rest against hers, his eyes half-lidded but still trying so hard to look at her face. He says it with the way he lets her hear his breathing, quiet little pants that are nowhere near on the scale of her own gasps and moans but they are so much more genuine to _him_. He says it with the way he holds her close to his chest the whole time.

He does not say _I love you too_ aloud but it vibrates through his entire being.

She can feel the coil in her gut beginning to tighten in the way that tells her it will snap soon and she will come unraveled, and she squeezes her eyes shut and silently _begs_ for more time, just a _little more time_ with him. He's so busy as the Hokage and there is no greater reminder of that fact than fucking him on his desk.

As though to directly contradict her prayers, Kakashi brings a hand down, trailing it down her chest and over one of her still-covered breasts before reaching down between them and rubbing his thumb over her clit. She throws her head back and practically screams and can only hope they did not hear her downstairs.

She squirms against him for a moment, rocking her hips completely out of sync with his against his hand until a shudder rips through her body and the coil snaps. With another moan, every muscle in her body seems to tense and she brings her hands up to grip his shoulders harshly, somewhat hoping to leave behind bruises so he might have to deal with some of what she has to with the hickeys he constantly leaves behind. (Not that she's complaining, really.)

Finally, after a long moment of simply sitting there, completely stunned by her orgasm, she slumps forward against him, burying her face in his shoulder, and he is courteous enough to still his hips even though they both know he has not climaxed yet.

"This was very risky, you know," she says even as she is struggling to catch her breath. He hums, and she looks up to see if he's making _the face_ she thinks he's going to be making. (He is. Smug and with an eyebrow raised as though to say, _I'll hear out your case, but I have no regrets._ ) "Someone could have walked in on us. We're in your office," she adds, though she finds that she also can't really regret it too much. "You didn't even close the curtains. Maybe it's not a big deal if Shikamaru catches us doing something, but what if a kid from the Academy had walked in here? Or if Naruto decided to show up early for your meeting-- you know how enthusiastic he is about becoming Hokage someday! Or what if--" He leans in and cuts her off with a kiss, slow and sweet. _That's a dirty trick_ , she thinks bitterly, even as she kisses him back.

He wraps his arms around her back and she moves her hands to grip his biceps, keeping a firm hold on him as though she could really stop him from leaning any farther forward if she wanted to. He doesn't run his tongue across her lip or push to deepen the kiss, simply holds her and kisses her until her heart is fluttering in her chest and she is left breathless. "That wasn't fair," she breathes when he pulls away, his hands still resting on the small of her back, up under the fabric of her dress.

"I'm the Hokage, I don't have to be fair."

"Isn't your job to be the _most_ fair?"

He scoffs. "Says who?" She snorts and shoves him back, and he does not fight it, stumbling a few steps away from her. She bites her lip and looks him up and down. He is still naked, his skin slick with sweat, his cock red and throbbing and still hard. He grins at her like an idiot as though he doesn't even notice it, clearly pleased with himself. If only to wipe that stupid look off his face, she slides off of the desk and steps forward despite how shaky her legs are underneath her, hooking her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a sloppy kiss.

He wraps his arms around her waist in return and backs up until they are against one of the huge windows of the office, and he actually hisses against her mouth at the feeling of the cold glass pressing against his skin. She pushes him to the floor, on his knees in front of her, and she smirks down at him. _I wonder how many people get to bring the Hokage to his knees_. She doesn't stay that way for long, pressing forward until he falls onto his back and then straddling his hips, his cock pressing firmly against her abdomen, hot and wet.

She slides onto him again a moment later, watching him press his head back against the floor. She smirks, resting her hands on his shoulders to hold him down and then tipping her head back, letting out exaggerated gasps just to rile him up in time with her rise and fall. He could easily sit up if he wanted to, but plays prisoner for her anyway.

His hands find purchase on her hips to guide their rhythm and to help support her upward movements, not made particularly easy by her weak knees or quivering thighs. (She thinks it may also simply be an excuse to have his hands near her butt, which he always seems to be so fond of grabbing when there are no other people around.) They end up settling into a slower pace, though it ends up being deeper and harder than what they'd been doing on the desk.

She thinks it must be another full ten minutes before he freezes, his fingertips digging into her hipbones to stop her and his eyes squeezing shut. Shudders rack through his body for a minute and she feels something only vaguely warmer than her own heated body temperature pool in her gut. They continue to sit like that, joined with each other for a long moment, before she finally rolls off of him and lays next to him on her back on the floor.

He moves to lay on his side, slinging an arm across her waist. She scoots closer to rest her head on his shoulder, nuzzling one of her cheeks against his bare skin. "You didn't eat your lunch," she huffs after a minute. It's just as edible cold as it is warm, fish stew over rice with umeboshi, because she'd already suspected he'd bury himself in getting paperwork done and forget to eat for hours. _This alternative is only kind of preferable_ , she thinks. He only hums in response, lifting his head to eyeball the bentō box that still teeters haphazardly on the edge of his desk. "Just promise me you'll eat it eventually."

"Stop fussing. You're not my wife yet," he jokes. She freezes, her brain halting at the _yet_. It's the second time he's made a comment implying he wants to marry her after sex in twice as many weeks, and they are in his office only a short while before he has a meeting so he can't simply run away and then change the subject as though reading her mind any time she's about to bring it up this time.

He does get up, though, leaving her on the hardwood floor to start picking his clothes up and putting them back on. She almost wants to stay there simply for how cool the wood feels against her back through the thin fabric of her sundress, but gets up and grabs her panties, glancing at him while she steps into them. He gets dressed much faster than she does despite having more clothing to put on. "Kakashi," she says softly as he pulls his mask back up over his mouth.

"I just keep running my mouth, huh? I can't stop talking and something about sleeping with you makes me feel open and vulnerable and I just... can't stop talking," he huffs, running a hand through his hair, and her gaze softens. His mouth is covered, but in his eyes she can see how panicked he looks. "We haven't even been together that long and it's totally heat of the moment and you probably think--"

"I'd be happy to marry you," she says, soft but firm, and he stares at her with wide eyes. There's a knock on the door half a second later.

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty sure every Hokage has fucked their wife on the Hokage desk, don't @ me. Only exceptions are Tobirama, who's a bitter ass, and Tsunade, who wasn't married but she definitely fucked on that desk.


End file.
